


Cloudberry Jam

by rufousnmacska



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: ACOWAR, F/M, Nessian - Freeform, a court of mist and fury, a court of wings and ruin - Freeform, acomaf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 20:22:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10998306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rufousnmacska/pseuds/rufousnmacska
Summary: A Nesta and Cassian story set after the events of A Court of Wings and Ruin.





	Cloudberry Jam

 

 

Nesta picked listlessly at the food on her plate. Every now and then she took a bite. But it was only to indulge the occasional looks from her sisters. Laughter echoed through the dining room as Mor and Cassian took turns telling a story about Rhys from their childhood.

Nesta had tried to look interested at the beginning. But the first time Cassian took over from Mor, he’d looked to everyone for a reaction to his joke. Everyone but her. He’d ignored her completely. As he’d been doing since they’d survived Hybern. She’d stopped listening then, thinking only of why she’d bothered to come here at all.

The Inner Circle ate many meals together but they’d designated one night a week for a family dinner. She and Elain, having moved into a small townhouse of their own, had been included and were expected to attend. Nesta agreed only because of Elain. Unlike herself, Elain needed to be around people. Despite the horrors of the past months, her sister was beginning to thrive in Velaris. And Nesta would not jeopardize that.

But tonight. She couldn’t bare it any longer. This room. The laughing. The joy. As the noise crescendoed, she stood from her chair, setting her napkin next to her plate. Feyre glanced at her and Nesta forced a weak smile, nodding to the corridor that led to the guest washroom. Her sister smiled back, quickly returning to the story. No one else noticed her departure.

Nesta passed the washroom, continuing to the large foyer and the door that opened to the winding stairs leading down to the city. The commotion in the dining room receded and finally, she was outside, breathing a sigh of relief. It was a lovely late summer night and as she descended, she forced herself to stop every now and then and take in the views. The Rainbow was lit up, people jostling through the narrow streets as music lilted through the air. The harbor was full of ships, their bobbing just visible in the moonlight.

And the sky… She’d never seen so many stars. Like brilliant diamonds tossed across the indigo black of night. They were beautiful. And they made her feel so small. So insignificant. Her throat bobbed and she started back down the steps. Nesta did not look skyward again. No need to reinforce the bleak thoughts that always threatened to pull her under.

When she reached the turn to her street, Nesta saw someone waiting on the front steps. Her heart fluttered, until the figure rose. No wings.

Feyre held Nesta’s shawl in her hands, a strained smile on her face. “You left this.”

She reached for it and walked past Feyre to her door. A part of her wanted to say something. To explain how she couldn’t stomach being around so many people. So much happiness and… family. But the pity in Feyre’s eyes sent ice coursing through her veins.

Nesta could imagine the thoughts running through her sister’s mind. The questions she probably wanted to ask about Cassian. _As if there is anything to ask about_. She almost laughed at the thought. But when she spoke, all she could muster was a thank you.

“Next time, please let me know if you’re leaving,” Feyre said softly. “I could have winnowed you here. And we wouldn’t have been worried about you.”

A retort flitted through her mind but she bit it back. She didn’t have the energy or the desire to start something. So she just said, “I will.”

Nesta turned and went inside, not bothering to tell her sister there would be no next time.

The following weeks went by in a haze. Nesta barely left the house. The few times she did were to visit a book shop just around the corner. Then she’d head home, go straight to her room, and start on the new stack of books.

The dinners had continued as usual but she hadn’t returned. The first time she’d made a flimsy excuse. But after that, she’d stopped. Whenever Azriel came to fly Elain to the House of Wind, whether for dinner or some other gathering, she would try to get Nesta to come along. But a firm no was enough to send her sister on her way.

The sole bright spot was the cloudberry jam.

Very early one day, Elain knocked on her door calling, “I have a surprise for you.”

Nesta cringed at the sing song tone of Elain’s voice. She loved her sister more than anything, but her hatred of mornings outweighed even that on occasion. Before Nesta could rise, Elain came in carrying a tray. Whatever was on it smelled amazing. She perked up a bit, causing Elain to grin.

“I knew you’d like this,” she said. “Fresh muffins and cloudberry jam.”

“Fresh jam?” She sat fully upright. “You made it?”

Elain’s expression turned sheepish. “Just the muffins I’m afraid. The jam was left on our doorstep. Along with some berries that look like they were picked recently.”

When they’d first been brought to Velaris and the House of Wind, Nesta had been wary of the food. She’d insisted on bland meals, leaving the spicier and more colorful dishes untouched. Cassian had chided her about being a snob.

But then one morning, her oatmeal had arrived with a small bowl of golden jam. It tasted like nothing she’d ever eaten before. Sweet but not overpowering, with the barest hint of tartness. Like honey and sunshine. From Cerridwen she’d learned the berries were hard to come by and had been preserved from the previous year’s harvest. After that, she’d slowly started experimenting with the Night Court food. And the more she tried, the more grateful she was for that first bowl of jam, the catalyst for her expanding palate.

Now, Nesta greedily reached for the tray. The bowl of orange-red berries gleamed in the early morning light. Frowning, she asked, “But who left them Elain?”

As she turned to go, Elain said, “The jar is the same as those Nuala and Cerridwen had in Feyre’s townhouse. I saw them in the pantry when they were teaching me how to bake.”

Nesta thanked Elain, a spoonful of berries already in her mouth. Feyre was probably hoping to persuade her to rejoin their dinners. Her little sister was certainly cunning. But even the jewel-toned confection wasn’t enough of a bribe to get Nesta to go back. She was quite satisfied with spending her time reading, quiet and alone.

The day after her third missed dinner, Nesta’s door thudded as someone’s fist pounded against it. She shot up in alarm, dropping her book, and spun to find Amren standing before her. A hand against her pounding heart, Nesta opened her mouth to ask what was going on but Amren spoke first.

“Nice to see you are still alive.”

The scowl on her face was a bit frightening, even with her now commonplace fae eyes. Nesta returned the look and sat back down.

Amren came around to face her. “You’re through with your training then? Hybern is defeated and you think you can sit back and do nothing?“ When Nesta didn’t answer, the tiny fae went on. “Or is this about that overgrown bat? His insecurities are not your problem, girl.”

She stayed silent, her eyes on the book but not really seeing anything. Her anger swelled to a point where she thought smoke might pour from her skin.

“Nesta.”

The tone had softened. And, Amren had never before used her name. Hearing it now, seeing Amren’s worried expression… The fire that had been building within was snuffed out. Nesta sank back into her chair.

“Your enemy is dead and you believe you no longer have a purpose,” Amren said. “Or is it the brutality you witnessed in the war that’s bothering you?” With growing annoyance, she added, “What did Cassian do?”

Nesta gave a humorless laugh and met Amren’s eyes. Her new eyes. So plain compared to the beautifully swirling silver storms she’d had before. “He’s done nothing.“ Amren’s eyebrow raised, as if repeating the question.

“It’s not about him,” she said. It was a partial truth, but far enough from a lie that she felt confident in saying it. Because ultimately, it wasn’t about him.

“Then what?” Amren asked.

Nesta sighed. It almost turned into a sob as she waved her hand and said, “Everyone has forgiven him. Made him out to be a hero. They’ve just gone back to their lives like everything is normal and he never… Never left us. Like he hadn’t abandoned us years ago.”

“Your father.” Amren looked angry at herself for not realizing it sooner.

“I know he came for us in the end. And he brought help. He even apologized. But…” The memories seeped through her mind as she stared out the window. Her father watching as his wife wasted away. Staking their future on a risky investment that ended up ruining them. Years and years of doing absolutely nothing as they starved. Passing on his failings to his eldest daughter, who’d been too angry and afraid to care for her sisters. Her father’s neck snapped by the King of Hybern.

“I watched him die and all I can think about is what that queen from the continent said. He’d been like a father to her. Lucien called him a great man.” She looked at Amren, tears burning her eyes. “How dare he be a father to some stranger after neglecting us for most of our lives.” Her voice was so filled with hate, Nesta almost didn’t recognize it. “What’s wrong with me? They’ve forgiven him. But I can’t. I can’t forget all those years of nothing. All the ways he failed us.”

Amren took hold of Nesta’s wrist, hard. “Only you decide if he’s worthy of your forgiveness. No one else. And from all that I’ve been told of the man, you have every right to withhold it. Death does not redeem him. Your feelings may change with time. Or not. Either way girl, they are yours and no one can shame you for them. Including yourself. Understood?”

Catching a quick silver flash in Amren’s eyes, Nesta nodded. When Amren released her hand and stood, she said, “I have some business to take care of for Rhys, but you will begin training with me again next week. Every morning at my loft. Your powers may have changed without the connection to the cauldron, but that doesn’t mean they are gone. Or diminished.” She leaned close towards Nesta’s face and whispered, “You have no idea what you are capable of.”

Then, before Nesta could say a word, Amren was out the door. The tiny, fierce female had come and gone like a summer thunderstorm, completely upending her life.

 

* * *

 

Cassian sat at his desk looking through the endless lists of supplies waiting to be restocked. He hated this part of commanding. Sure there were underlings and lower ranked soldiers to handle the details, but he gave the final approvals. He wanted to know everything that happened, he just didn’t need all the paper work that came with it.

Out of nowhere his door burst open and Amren strolled in.

“Shit,” Cassian exclaimed, sliding a long dagger back into its sheath on his leg. “Do you have a death wish?”

“Is blissful ignorance your new life philosophy? Or does it only apply to Nesta?”

Cassian frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Amren huffed a laugh, as if his question answered her own. “In deference to your current outlook, I will ignore the fact that there are feelings between the two of you that need to be addressed.” He opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off with a nasty look. “I will ignore the fact that you are Illyrian and, through no fault of your own, have inherited their fragile male ego.”

Cassian stood. He really didn’t have an argument against what she was saying, but damn the cauldron if he was going to let her keep going.

Unflinching as always, Amren stalked forward and pointed a finger in his face. “But I will not ignore the fact that Nesta needs our help.”

“She has her sisters. She has you,” he replied. The words practically dripped with shame. With the admission that he was the last thing she needed.

“Right there is your problem,” Amren said. “If you are her friend, then she does need you.”

He shook his head and sat back down. “You think she’d open up to me?!” He barked an incredulous laugh. “If she won’t talk about her problems to her sisters, why the hell would she speak to me?”

Amren sighed and closed her eyes, clearly frustrated with him. “Just get off your ass and quit pretending she means nothing to you.” She looked at him again, her gaze hard and cold. “She is drowning.”

The words hit hard. As he was sure they were meant to. He’d failed Nesta when she’d been turned into a fae. He’d failed to save her father. And now, he was failing her again.

“You are one of the bravest fighters I’ve ever seen Cassian. But we all have fears. If you don’t fight them, for her, _for yourself_ , you will regret it.”

He sat in silence, processing her words. Her compliment. They had a contentious relationship but he’d always respected her. Knowing she respected him… He felt honored.

Solemnly, Cassian nodded his thanks.

Amren turned and headed for the door. From over her shoulder she sang, “If you tell anyone that I said you were brave, I will give you something new to fear.”

As the door shut, Cassian threw his head back and laughed.

 

* * *

 

The berries continued to appear on their doorstep early each morning, along with a jar of jam. Nesta had sent Feyre a message thanking her for the daily gift only to learn that she and Rhys had been gone for a while, visiting Tarquin in the Summer Court. _Nuala or Cerridwen must be leaving them_ , she’d thought.

Determined to thank them personally, Nesta dragged herself out of bed earlier and earlier each morning, hoping to catch them. But each time she opened the door, the cloudberries were already there. After the fourth failed attempt, she decided to stay up overnight to be sure she didn’t miss them.

Curled up in a chair reading, Nesta looked at the clock on the mantel. Almost 4 in the morning. Her eyes burned and her lids were growing heavy. Heading to the kitchen for something to drink, she heard a noise outside. She was at the door in an instant and pulled it open.

Only to find Cassian, bent over a basket he’d placed on the step, head up, eyes wide in surprise.

Nesta froze. Then sputtered, “You? You… What are you…”

Cassian rose slowly, unable to meet her gaze. He’d definitely not planned on getting caught. Absently running a hand through his hair, it got tangled in the small bun knotted in the back. He swore and pulled it out, his hair falling loose around his face.

Nesta finally managed to speak. “What are you doing here?” The words did not have as much venom as she’d wanted. In fact, she sounded breathless.

Cassian finally managed to look her in the eyes. “They have a short season. I knew you liked them. So…” He trailed off.

“How? How did you know?”

“When you were still living in the House of Wind.” With his still, tense body as a backdrop, his fidgety hands drew her attention.

Nesta realized she’d never seen him like this before. He was nervous. Nothing of the arrogant, swaggering male she was used to.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” she said.

His eyes flicked away and back again. When they met hers, and held, her heart skipped a beat. She stared into them, trying to decide if they were brown or green or gray. It was still dark out and she was too far away. Before she could stop herself, she stepped closer.

“Where did you get them?” she asked. She almost winced at the sound of her voice. Why the hell couldn’t she catch her breath?

Cassian grinned, the nerves suddenly gone. “They grow in the tundra, near the Illyrian Steppes. Most people think it’s desolate and not worth the trouble to go there. But it’s actually quite beautiful.”

There was something about the way he was looking at her that made Nesta wonder if he was talking about that place or her.

He bowed his head towards her, and with a low, gravely voice said. “I could show you.”

"I… I can’t,” she said. “I’m busy today.” At the hint of a frown on his face, Nesta hurriedly added, “I’m meeting Amren. To learn more about my magic. Learn how it’s changed. Training.”

 _Shut up_ , she told herself, flustered and wondering why it was any of his business. Though, he hadn’t even asked.

Confused by her own reaction, and the way he was looking at her, she just stood there, mouth open, no words coming out. The smirk that spread slowly across his face brought her anger to the surface. But before Nesta unleashed it upon him, she was struck by how much she’d missed seeing that smirk. It had been… how long? Weeks since she’d even seen him? Longer since he’d dared to look at her. And that brought her confusion back.

“Why are you here?” Finally, her voice matched her sentiment. She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms for good measure.

Cassian only said, “Tomorrow morning. 5 AM. Dress warm.” The next second, he was in the sky.

Nesta blinked, stunned by all of the emotions roiling through her. _Dammit_ , she thought as she grabbed the basket and slammed the door. _Now I’ll never get to sleep_.

 

* * *

 

What the hell was he doing?

Cassian tied his hair back and then took it out. Tied it again.

And why the hell was he so nervous? This was idiotic. She probably wouldn’t even come outside to meet him. _  
_

_And why should she with the way I’ve treated her_ , he thought.

He’d avoided her since the battle with Hybern. Since he’d admitted his feelings for her. When he’d expected to die. When he’d wanted to die. How many times was he going to let her down? The already too-long list had grown rapidly with each day that he ignored what had happened.

And that first time she’d left dinner without telling anyone… Despite Rhys and Amren’s reassurances, Feyre and Elain had nearly panicked, afraid the cauldron had somehow taken Nesta or lured her away. But when Feyre returned saying Nesta had simply left and walked home… He knew then how deeply she was hurting. Which only reinforced his opinion that he should stay away.

Even with his concern and ever growing desire to see her, Cassian _had_ stayed away, thinking she could get on with her life more easily if he was not directly in it. But then he’d overheard Elain telling Feyre what was happening. Nesta hardly left her room, barely ate. Any time Elain suggested going to the theater or strolling through the Rainbow, Nesta would give her the same reply. “I’m perfectly happy right here.” Nesta might be comfortable in solitude, but Cassian knew it was a bullshit excuse.

That’s when he’d begun leaving the basket each morning. Something he hadn’t shared with Amren when she’d come to kick his ass. But still, he couldn’t bring himself to confront Nesta. Getting caught in the act though… that had accomplished what Amren’s pep talk could not.

He landed in front of her door a half hour early. There were no lights visible and he wondered if he should wait or just leave. She was probably still in bed. As he turned to sit on the stoop, the door opened.

Cassian spun around to find Nesta, dressed in Illyrian leathers. He tried to keep his breathing steady. Hell, she could probably see his heart thumping in his chest. He felt overwhelmed, as if he’d been stunned. Not just because of the way the leathers emphasized the curves and lines of her body. But also because they were something of his people. Like Rhys and Az, he hated many of the backwards aspects of their Illyrian culture. But, it was still his, still a part of him. And seeing her in them sparked a tiny hope that if she deemed them worthy to wear, perhaps she might see him as worthy too. He didn’t know where this hope came from, but he couldn’t bring himself to stamp it out.

“Will this be warm enough?” She ran her hands down her sides, her expression uncertain.

“You’re perfect.” The words just slipped out. Her eyes widened and before she could say anything, he extended his hand. “Shall we?” She examined him, as if deciding whether or not to go through with it. He dipped his head and gave her some incentive. “This is probably the last day to pick them.”

Nesta did not give him the smile he’d been hoping for, but she took his hand. When he lifted her up and she placed her arms around his neck, he felt how at ease she was. Nothing of the sneering ice princess from the first time they’d met. As he took off into the sky, he let loose the breath he’d been holding and headed northeast towards the steppes.

They flew into the dawn. Clouds hovering low in the sky reflected the rays of light peeking above the horizon. All too quickly, the bright pinks and purples of the rising sun overtook the deep, dark blue of night.

Cassian kept an eye on Nesta as he flew. She was in awe of the morning scenery. Knowing he’d played a small role in bringing that expression to her face brought a smile to his own.

They were silent for much of the time. As they soared over the steppes, he pointed down to a large herd of tundra elk. When he saw her curious reaction, Cassian flew lower so she could see them better.

“Great herds travel between the mountains and the tundra each year. They eat the moss and lichen to survive.”

“Are they hunted?” Nesta asked. She twisted in his arms to watch them pour across a small river.

“Yes,” he answered, then added, “but not with magic. Illyrians hunt them with the bow. There are other kinds of fae who live in this region. They keep small herds for the meat and hides. And milk.” Her head snapped up to see if he was joking. Cassian laughed and said, “The cheese is quite good. There’s a vendor who sells it at the Palace of Hoof and Leaf.”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed with suspicion, still unsure if he was being serious. He winked at her. Then, his voice all exaggerated bravado, said, “I make a sinfully delicious cloudberry cheesecake.”

Nesta stared at him and then burst out laughing.

Cassian grinned, thinking her laugh was more beautiful than any music Velaris had to offer.

 

* * *

 

When Cassian landed and set her down atop the spongy vegetation, Nesta held on to his arm for a few steadying seconds. She was stiff and sore after the long, chilly flight. With a snap of magic, Cassian held two baskets. Giving one to Nesta, he gestured for her to follow a worn path through the expanse of green. Orange and yellow-gold fruits were sprinkled across the surface of the low lying bushes like gemstones. An unripe red berry poked out here and there. 

“You made this path,” she said.

“I picked my way in,” he replied. "Cloudberries are a delicacy. It would be sacrilege to step on them. I don’t think anyone outside of the herders knows about this patch. I ask their permission every year.” He knelt and extended his arm as far as he could reach, pulled it back and deposited a handful of berries into the basket.

Nesta stopped as everything came together in her mind. That first appearance of the jam in the House of Wind. The jars in Rhys and Feyre’s pantry. The jars on her doorstep. “You make the jam.”

Cassian looked up at her and shrugged. “For a few weeks in late summer the camp cooks would trade with groups of herders to get the berries. Those were the only times growing up that we had anything other than gruel for breakfast.” Returning to the bushes, he said, “As the high lord’s son, Rhys could have them year round as jam. When his mother saw how much I loved them, she taught me how to make it.”

Rising, he laughed. “I thought it was ridiculous at the time. When the hell would a bastard Illyrian grunt have time to make jam? But she’d insisted. She said learning to cook was a survival skill every warrior should have. She’d dragged Rhys into the lessons too. But it went in one ear and out the other with him.” He continued down the path to a section that was still untouched. “By the time Az came, I was helping her with every dinner.”

Nesta watched him, marveled by his… everything. By him. By what he’d been secretly doing for her all this time. She thought about what he’d said to her when they were on that battlefield. She’d assumed his avoidance of her afterwards was because he had regretted his words. Had felt guilty for speaking them in the heat of battle without actually meaning them.

But his story about the jam reminded Nesta that parts of his upbringing roughly mirrored her own. The details of their abandonment and the ways they’d reacted were different. But the fact remained that both she and Cassian were products of unpleasant childhoods. And both were drowning in the shame they felt as a result. He still considered himself nothing more than a bastard Illyrian grunt. And she was a hateful failure of a sister.

“Let’s see who has the most,” he said, suddenly standing beside her. Cassian frowned down at her empty basket. “Uh… Did I fail to mention that berry picking is a competitive sport?” 

Nesta only gazed up at him.

“Nesta?” The playful expression disappeared from his face.

“Did you ever know your father?”

 

* * *

 

Cassian didn’t flinch at her question, but his brows furrowed, wondering where it had come from. “No. I searched but was never able to find out who he was.” His hand brushed hers. “Why are you asking?”

She turned to look towards the distant mountains. “I knew mine. Or, I thought I did. Apparently he reserved most of his fatherly behavior for people other than his own daughters. Well,” she faced him again. “He always favored Elain, but I didn’t mind that. She deserved his favor.”

“You deserved it too,” he said softly, hoping his words wouldn’t push her into silence.

“No,” she said matter-of-factly. “I never hid my disdain for him. I never felt guilty for it.” Nesta clenched her jaw and swallowed. “And I know I should now. After… after what he did. But…” She trailed off, dipping her head to wipe away a tear that was about to fall.

Cassian recalled her father’s death. How he’d professed his love for Nesta and had not wanted her to beg Hybern for his life. He remembered Lucien’s tale about how the man had helped the cursed, human queen and gathered a fleet of soldiers to save his daughters. He wondered now if Nesta was fully aware of all her father had done to get back to her and her sisters.

“It took me a long, long time before I wanted to know who my father was,” he said. “And even then, a big part of me hated him. Part of me still does.” He took a deep breath and said, “But, maybe if I had known something about him, been able to talk to people who knew him… Maybe it would be easier for me to feel worthy of my family now.” She was staring at him again, her storm gray eyes wide and shining. “Maybe I would feel worthy of you. And would not have left you to deal with this grief on your own.

“It’s ok if you don’t forgive your father Nesta. He had a lot to make up for. But you may want to consider talking to Lucien about him sometime. I don’t know if it would change your opinion of the man. But it might give you closure.”

He ran a finger down her cheek and brushed her hair behind an ear. “Whatever you decide to do or not do, know that you will not have to face it alone.”

Nesta sniffed and wiped her nose with her hand. He pulled a handkerchief from a pocket and gave it to her. With a small laugh she asked, “What else is hidden in there?” The instant the words left her mouth she cringed.

Cassian bit his lip, but he couldn’t stop the smile that broke across his face. “We should head back. Soon it will be too hot out here for these clothes.”

Nesta glared at him. He raised a hand in defense. “I only mean the leathers are good protection for flying in the early morning but not for the full sun of day.”

Reaching across him into his basket, she took a handful of cloudberries and ate them.

“No. That is not ok,” Cassian said. “You didn’t even pick any. And you want to eat them all before we get home?”

A corner of her lips curved. Quick as a rabbit she grabbed another handful and had them in her mouth before he knew what had happened.

“Dammit Nesta! There won’t be any left.” He swung the basket around so it was behind his back.

But she must have kept one. With a sensual smile that sent heat rushing through him, she rolled the berry slowly between her fingers. They held each others gaze as she brought it up, inches from his mouth. Cassian’s heart thrummed and for a split second, he wondered if she knew what she was doing. What this innocent teasing could mean under different circumstances. As his lips opened to take the offering, she popped the cloudberry into her mouth and walked away.

 _By the cauldron_ … Cassian closed his eyes and took an extremely long, deep breath. This woman would be the end of him. And there wasn’t a damn thing he was going to do to stop her.

 

* * *

 

Cassian magicked the baskets away and approached to take her in his arms for the flight home. But Nesta stopped him with a hand on his chest and looked up into his hazel eyes. They actually looked a little blue. The color was drawn out and accentuated by the bright sky framing his face.

“You are more than worthy Cassian. For your family. And for me.”

He stared at her for a moment then dipped his forehead to rest on hers. With a gentleness Nesta was no longer surprised by, he drew back and lifted her chin. His lips were full and soft as they met hers. She fell easily into the kiss, into him. When his tongue unexpectedly flicked out across her lips, she pulled away in shock. A pleasant, thrilling kind of shock that left her body buzzing.

Cassian smiled and said, “Mmmmm. You taste like cloudberries.” He scooped her into his arms and held her tightly against him. “Did you know that I make an exquisite cloudberry cheesecake?”

Laughing, she said, “I’ve heard some unreliable rumors. I’ll believe it when I taste it.”

That cocky smirk reappeared and Nesta had to admit to herself that she kind of liked it. Liked the brightness in his eyes that accompanied it. And the devilish twist of his mouth. Aspects that she’d noticed were reserved for when he flashed it at her, and her alone.

“Luckily for you I have some waiting for us at home.”

Nesta kissed his cheek and said, “I am very lucky.”

**Author's Note:**

> (Head canon that Cassian is an awesome cook and whenever someone is sad or sick or stressed out, he makes their favorite food. He takes berry picking very, VERY seriously. He got in trouble once as a boy for sneaking out of camp to find a cloudberry patch. That prompted Rhys’s mom to teach him how to cook. Rhys was pissed at him for a while because of the extra lessons. He keeps his jam-making skills secret outside of the inner circle. All of Velaris would be hounding him for it if they knew. But the inner circle houses are all stocked. When he slipped that first bowl of jam onto Nesta’s breakfast tray at the House of Wind and found out she LOVED it… That was it. He was hers. And when they accepted the mating bond, they simultaneously offered each other a spoonful of jam to seal the deal.)


End file.
